


We're Already Wet

by itsmadeofgold



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Kradam, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmadeofgold/pseuds/itsmadeofgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam finds himself in the hospital following a nasty fall.  Then he gets a visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Already Wet

He should've let the nurse help him, really. He was just so sick of being poked at and messed with and, really, he wanted to maintain _some_ dignity, if he even had any left. They could manhandle him and call him "sweetie" and ask infuriating questions like "how are we feeling today?" and he could just manage to deal with that without letting his inner bitch out (well, most of the time - he was sure he wasn't going to win any "patient of the year" awards), but he drew the line at being "assisted" in the shower. Bum knee or no, Adam was a grown-ass man and he could manage his basic hygiene all on his own, thank you very much.

Or so he'd thought.

Looking back, he really should've waited until he was already sitting on the toilet before he took the brace off. Taking it off while leaning on the door frame of the bathroom had been his first mistake. Tossing it toward the shower, where it would be handy when he got out, was his second. He'd thought he could just hop to the toilet, have a seat and get to work covering his bandages with plastic wrap, but he'd dropped the roll of plastic on his first hop (he blamed the painkillers) then reached for it reflexively, throwing off his balance and leading him to his current embarrassing situation.

He was hanging on to a towel bar for dear life, his good leg twisted awkwardly underneath him, his bad one splayed out and useless in front. He was working on pulling himself up, cursing the cocktail of drugs that was keeping him from feeling the mess going on in his leg for also making him feel so weak, when he heard the door to his room open and breathed a sigh of relief. Pride be damned, he needed help after all, and he sent the universe quick thanks for bringing the nurse back.

He turned his head, looking back over his shoulder as he called "Hey! A little help?"

He realized that his stupid hospital gown was billowed open in the back and that whoever was coming to rescue him would get quite the view when they came in the room. There went that last bit of dignity, he guessed, sighing. He heard a surprised little yelp of a laugh and craned his neck, trying to see who was standing in the doorway and give them a dirty look for laughing instead of rushing to his aid, but twisting his body had put more pressure on his leg and caused him to lose his balance again. He wobbled, nearly losing his grip and tumbling over, and just managed to grab the bar with his other hand and keep semi-upright.

"Listen," he said, panting. "I'm in sort of a bad spot at the moment so if you wouldn't mind moving your ass instead of staring at mine, I'd kind of appreciate it."

"Um," came the flustered, alarmingly familiar voice. "Sorry, uh... OK, hold on."

Oh, god. No.

"Kris?" Adam said, his face instantly burning red as he took one hand off the bar to try to reach back and close his gown, losing his equilibrium in the process and lurching to one side. Strong arms caught him, pulling him up with some effort. When he was standing unsteadily on one foot, Kris grabbed Adam's arm and draped it around his shoulder, maneuvering him toward the toilet and helping him sit on the lid.

"Hi," Kris said, once Adam was safely situated. He was blushing, too.

"Hey," Adam said, smiling a pathetic little smile. "Um, sorry about snapping at you. I thought you were the nurse."

"No problem."

"And, um... thanks."

"You're welcome."

"How did you get in here?"

"I came to visit." Kris shrugged. "I was on the approved guest list, so they just let me up."

"I'm glad they did," Adam said. "I was a in a bit of a bind. Sorry about having to see my pasty ass, though."

Kris laughed once, the same high, surprised noise he'd made when he first came in. "That's OK," he said. He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, but then closed it again, shaking his head. He seemed at a loss.

"I was just about to take a shower," Adam said, wincing as the words came out and he realized they would do nothing to lessen the tension or embarrassment of this moment. He should've gone with a joke.

"OK," Kris said. "I can go, if you need privacy. I mean, if you want. I could just come back later."

Adam didn't want Kris to go. He was happy to see him, despite the awkward hello, and hated the idea of sending him away. Moments together were so rare - with their schedules and the fact that they couldn't be seen together in public without starting a storm of rumors and innuendo, it seemed like their relationship had taken place almost entirely via text message the last few months. Being alone in a room with Kris was a rare treat, even if it was a hospital bathroom.

"OK," Adam answered slowly, his reluctance clear in his voice. "Could you just stop by the nurse's station on your way out and ask somebody to come help me? I thought I could do this myself, but it's looking like I was overconfident."

"Sure," Kris said, then paused, thoughtful. "Unless... what kind of help do you need? Can I help?"

Adam's heart sputtered once, triggered by the mere suggestion of Kris helping him do _this_. This was dangerous territory, he knew. He'd done a decent job of keeping his want of Kris quarantined from the more acceptable and friendly feelings he had for him, and that had been working pretty well so far. Sure, he had his weak moments when he let his mind wander but, seriously, who could blame him? He thought the fact that he'd never acted on it qualified him for sainthood. This, though - the thought of being naked and half strung-out on painkillers with Kris in the room - felt like tempting fate.

"I just need to wrap my knee," he said. "And then... after that I might need some help getting from here to there." He gestured to the shower stall.

"Oh," Kris said.

"Yeah. You don't have to... I mean, you can just send a nurse."

"I can do it," Kris said, almost eagerly. "Do you mind?"

Adam looked up into Kris's face and saw determination there. His mind was working on something, Adam could tell by the set of his jaw and the lines on his forehead. What was he thinking? Was he just trying to prove one more time that he wasn't uncomfortable around his gay friend? Because this wasn't the kind of thing that he _had_ to do; even the closest of friends - without the burden of an acknowledged _crush_ between them - could've begged off from this task and left it to healthcare professionals without anybody blaming them. This was an intimate moment, and rife with potential for disaster.

"Sure, I guess," Adam said, knowing it was the wrong answer the minute he said it and yet unable to stop himself. He wanted Kris to stay, whatever the circumstances. "Just, um. Will you hand me that plastic wrap?"

Kris bent over to grab it, handing it to Adam quickly and then sitting on the floor in front of him. Adam took it with thanks, then unrolled a length and leaned over to begin the process of protecting his bandages. His hands were shaking; he figured it was partly because of the drugs he was on and partly the nerves of having Kris watch him. The wrap shuddered between his hands, sticking to itself so that Adam was having to try to pull it apart and find the end again before he'd even managed to get started.

"Here," Kris said, taking the roll from Adam's hand. "Let me."

"Thanks," Adam said grudgingly. He knew he needed help, but this was embarrassing.

Kris's sure hands found the end of the wrap and untangled it, laying it across Adam's knee and unrolling it, around and under and around again, smoothly and quickly. As Adam watched his hands work, he found his mind straying again, thinking of other things he'd like to see those strong hands with their long fingers do. He tried to redirect himself but his mind seemed difficult to control and wouldn't be brought in line. He figured that was also the result of the painkillers... or maybe that was just a handy excuse to let him daydream without feeling guilty about it. Did it make a difference? He'd had a shitty week; if having some impure thoughts about his friend made him feel better, why fight it?

"So how in the hell did you get yourself into this mess?" Kris said, his eyes still on his work. "I always thought you were a pretty good dancer."

Adam rolled his eyes. "I am," he said. "I don't know what happened. I was just doing my thing and then suddenly I heard a pop, and that hurt. And then I fell down and twisted it and... that hurt more."

"I saw the video."

"I think everybody on the planet has seen the video," Adam said, sighing. "When I stepped on stage that night I totally didn't expect to become the laughing stock of YouTube."

"It's not that bad," Kris said with a reassuring smile, finishing up with the wrap. "What else needs to be done here?"

"Medical tape," Adam said. "On the shelf over there. To seal the edges."

Kris grabbed the tape and set to work again, laying one hand gently on Adam's thigh - a little higher up than was strictly necessary, Adam thought - as he used the other to wind the tape.

"So what's the prognosis?" Kris said mildly.

"The surgery went fine," Adam said, attempting to focus his attention on his medical details instead of Kris's hands. "A few more days in the hospital, then I go home with the brace and crutches. They said it'll be six weeks before they can even tell me for sure when I can perform again, though. Well. I guess I can do some acoustic sitting-on-stool type gigs."

Kris nodded, then leaned forward to tear the tape off with his teeth. Adam sucked in his breath as he felt Kris's brush warmly against his thigh. He really wasn't wearing much of anything, and if Kris just flicked his eyes up from where he was he would get an eyeful. Almost literally, as the drugs were doing little to stop Adam's visceral reaction to their proximity and the feeling of Kris's breath and skin on his leg.

Kris sat back up, patting Adam's knee gently and smiling at his good work. "So," he said. "You feel OK, though? Other than the leg?"

"Yeah," Adam said, confused, wondering if this scene would make more sense if he were clear-headed or if it really was as weird and surreal as he thought. "I mean, I'm on a lot of painkillers so I'm not sure I could feel bad if I wanted to."

"That's good."

"Yeah, it is."

There was a moment of silence. Adam thought they should be in the process of getting him up and moved to the shower stall, but instead they just sat there looking at each other. Kris still had his hand on Adam's leg, the heel resting on the wrapped bandages while the fingers extended upward, resting lightly on Adam's skin and just brushing the hem of his gown. Adam looked down at the hand when it started moving, the fingers just twitching lightly, causing enough friction to be noticeable and make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

The codeine had deadened the pain in his knee, but that seemed to be all that it had deadened. Adam's breath hitched when his dick twitched against the thin fabric of his hospital gown, drawing Kris's attention. He tried to control his breathing, but the sound of his harsh, shallow breaths seemed to reverberate off the walls. He didn't know if he was really that loud, or if it was the result of the swimmy feeling in his head; he also wasn't sure if the swimmy feeling was all because of the drugs or if Kris's hand was enhancing it. He thought probably it was. He felt dizzy.

This whole scene was starting to freak him out, but Kris was staring at the now impossible-to-miss tenting in the front of Adam's gown with a look on his face that couldn't be further from _freaked out._ He looked curious. Interested, even.

Adam began to wonder if he was hallucinating.

He cleared his throat.

"My eyes are up here, honey," he said, attempting to project levity and control, not sure if he'd succeeded.

Kris looked up, his face showing surprise but no shame.

"Not even blushing?" Adam asked, confusion in his voice. Maybe he really _was_ hallucinating. "You don't look like a guy who just got caught staring at his friend's dick."

Kris laughed, just a touch of pink finally making its way to his cheeks. "Sorry," he said. "I was just thinking."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah. Well," he paused. "How stoned are you right now?"

Adam's face screwed up in confusion. "I'm a little high, I admit," he said. "Well, I'm either a little high or I'm absolutely tripping my ass off, because I don't think I really understand what's going on here."

"OK," Kris said. His hand moved up Adam's leg, his palm now flush against his thigh, fingers extending under the fabric of the gown. "I was just thinking about... you, I guess. I am not used to seeing this much skin. You're always so covered up."

Adam's eyes popped. Oh man, he really _was_ tripping. When he came down from this he'd have to speak to the doctors about his medication doses.

But, "what?" he said.

"I want... I mean, I've always wanted more than I should want. But I've done a decent job being good, I think. I don't want to screw us up, you know. But now it's like... look at you. So much skin... no makeup, no leather, just you and this tiny little piece of cloth, so close to nothing at all. So... vulnerable? And so beautiful. And I was thinking about how I just want to touch you. And maybe that's OK? Or maybe... maybe I'm just weak. I don't know, but I have been fighting it for a long time and I can't remember why anymore. I can't think how it would be bad, how it would be the wrong thing."

Adam was quiet for a minute, running Kris's speech through his head over and over and trying to make it fit into some kind of rational reality and not really being able to. On the other hand, his body seemed more than willing to believe, as he could now feel his heartbeat pounding double-time in his dick, and goosebumps had popped up all over his arms.

"That doesn't make any sense, Kris," he finally said. "I'm the one... I'm the one who has to be good. You just _are_ good. _I'm_ the one who has to fight."

"I'm not as good as you think," Kris said, his hand inching up further. "I know this is the wrong place. But maybe it's the right time."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"I tried to. Maybe you just weren't paying attention to the signs."

Kris's hand was all the way under the gown now, the hem draped over his wrist. The tips of his fingers were just a breath away from the base of Adam's cock, and Adam felt like he was about to start hyperventilating. He had not seen this coming when he'd woken up in his hospital bed this morning, that's for sure.

Adam shook his head - he wasn't saying _no_ , just trying to clear it - and closed his eyes tight. He had told Kris he was only a little stoned, but he really wondered if now _was_ such a good time. He felt light, somehow grounded and distant at the same time, like his head was floating away, tethered by a thin string. He felt high. He couldn't be trusted to make a big decision like this - one that left their friendship hanging in the balance - when he was flowing with chemicals that made him feel a little bit loopy and loose. It seemed unfair to dangle something he wanted so badly right in front of him when he didn't have the capacity to really think it through.

But then again, maybe that made this the _perfect_ time. If Adam were at home, in a context he understood and in his right mind, he would almost certainly say no. Wouldn't he? He struggled to imagine it - it was not something he'd ever let himself think about for very long - and thought that he would be scared of ruining what they already had. That, despite what he admittedly wanted, the idea of... of going _there_ with Kris would be too much for him to take, and he'd run. His right mind would say it was too much to risk and too much to lose.

So maybe being loopy and loose was just the thing. Maybe one embarrassing fall and a heavy dose of narcotics was all that had stood between taking something good and making it something great.

And if it didn't work out, if something went wrong or somebody freaked, he could blame the drugs or say he didn't even remember. Maybe no damage had to be done. Maybe it was the _exact_ right time.

Maybe Adam was just really good at talking himself into things. Especially pretty brown-eyed things with their hands up his skirt. He could decide whether to thank or blame his painkillers for that later.

"Kris," he said, his voice deeper and more commanding than he'd intended. "Help me get into the shower, will you?"

Kris nodded, his face falling as he drew back his hand. He stood slowly, moving to the side of the toilet to wind an arm around Adam's back, supporting him under the opposite shoulder as Adam draped an arm around him. Kris braced himself on a towel bar as he straightened his knees, pulling Adam up with him gently.

"OK?" Kris said, turning to look at Adam with a face that was both defeated and now, finally, crimson. Adam realized Kris thought he was being turned down, and suppressed a laugh he was sure would've come out sounding hysterical. Kris's hurt look was adorable and his blush just ridiculous in its sweetness, and Adam decided to let him keep them for a while longer.

They made their way to the shower awkwardly, Kris shouldering most of Adam's weight while Adam hopped on one foot, wincing not from pain but his movement's embarrassing lack of grace. Neither said anything as Kris slid the shower door open and maneuvered Adam inside, helping him sit on the stool.

Once Adam was settled, Kris stood straight and took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, eyes downcast.

"I guess I'll go," he said. "Sorry."

"I might need more help, though," Adam said.

Kris arched an eyebrow. "You want me to stay?"

"Could you just reach behind me and undo those ties?" Adam said, choosing to ignore a question with an answer so obvious. Showing was better than telling anyway.

Kris stared at him wide-eyed for just a moment before taking a step toward him and reaching out to do as he was asked. There were three ties, done in loose bows. He pulled them open one at a time, the gown drooping and falling forward more with each light tug of his fingers.

"Thanks," Adam said. "I can't reach the faucet, though. I'm going to need you to turn it on for me." He reached up with one hand, grabbing the gown at his neck and pulling it down and off, tossing it out the open shower door. Kris sucked in his breath and Adam smirked as he saw him battle his eyes; he couldn't decide where to look and his gaze bounced all over Adam's body, seeming to try to take it in all at once, like it would be gone again any second.

Adam suddenly felt stone-cold sober, but still dizzy. He didn't think the drugs had anything to do with that anymore.

Kris hadn't moved, he just stood there staring. Adam started blushing again, despite himself.

"You're going to get wet," he said. "You might want to take your clothes off."

"Oh," Kris said, flustered, his cheeks flaming. "OK." He unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers while kicking off his shoes at the same time. He was down to his boxers in about ten seconds flat, and hesitated just a moment before pushing them down and kicking them out of the shower. He slid the door shut, then turned to face Adam, a look on his face that suggested he was completely lost but eager for direction.

Adam looked at him, marveling at how long he'd waited for this, how many times he'd felt wracked with guilt for visualizing this moment, and how none of his anticipation or fantasies could've prepared him for it. He'd known Kris would be beautiful, had known that he _was_ beautiful. But seeing him now, naked and wanting, his blush running all the way down his neck to the middle of his chest, his dick hard and ready, was more gorgeous than Adam's imagination had been able to conjure. And he liked to think that he was pretty imaginative.

"Turn it on," Adam said, his voice low now. Kris nodded once, then turned - ah, the view was pretty from the back too, Adam thought - and turned on the water.

When the spray showered down on Adam he let out a quiet moan, luxuriating in the feel of the hot water.

"Oh god, that feels so good," he said. "I haven't had a shower in _four days._ That's just not right."

Kris stood to the side, letting the water pour onto Adam like he didn't want to interrupt his special moment. He had a mysterious smile on his face that Adam hadn't seen before and couldn't read. Adam gave him a smile in return, bringing his hands up to run through his hair as water dripped down his face.

Kris reached over to the caddy hanging under the shower nozzle and grabbed the washcloth and small bottle of liquid soap that were on it. He wet the cloth quickly then squirted it with soap before putting the bottle back and taking a step toward Adam.

"Want me to wash you?" he said. "I am your nurse, after all."

Adam didn't answer, other than to close his eyes and make a noise that sounded suspiciously like purring. Kris moved into the small space behind him, reaching over his shoulders to run the soapy washcloth over Adam's chest. Adam threw his head back, resting it on Kris's belly as he lathered him up, running his hands and the cloth in gentle slow circles over his torso. The hand that wasn't holding the washcloth seemed to be exploring, smearing the suds while it catalogued everything underneath them. He ran his palm over Adam's chest, pausing to circle one nipple gently with his thumb, pinching it when it stood up for him.

Adam gasped and smiled.

Kris moved on to his shoulders, massaging them gently in the wake of the soap and cloth, finding knots at the base of Adam's neck and kneading at them. Adam rolled his head forward and groaned; he never would've believed when he woke up in a hospital bed this morning - dirty and sore and miserable and sick of these stupid white walls - that he was about to start the best day of his life, fucked up knee and all.

Kris's hands kept moving. He ran them down Adam's arms, trailing soap as he went, both washing and gently massaging every muscle his slick palms glided over. He took Adam's hands one at a time, holding them up to examine them, then running them briskly between his own to get them cleaned and loosened up. When that was done he bent slightly at the knee to run his hands under Adam's arms, up over the soft, pale skin of his sides, and Adam shivered.

Finally Kris came out from behind the stool and kneeled in front of Adam, water raining on him and dripping down his face in rivulets as he looked up at him with eyes that now looked half wild and even a little bit afraid. His skin was all pink and flushed now, his lips almost red. His chest was heaving.

"Come here," Adam said, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him up as he leaned toward him. Water poured over them as their lips met, Adam felt like he was swallowing and inhaling it at the same time but couldn't possibly have cared less as he focused on the soft heat of Kris's mouth against his.

Adam moved his hands up, placing one on either side of Kris's neck as Kris's wound their way around Adam's waist. Adam could only faintly hear the sounds Kris was making over the rush of the water, but he could feel the vibrations tickling against his lips. That was somehow painfully alluring and Adam found himself pushing harder, moving more desperately, his own whimpers and moans joining the rush of noise in their hot little cocoon.

They finally broke apart in a gasp and Kris looked dazed. He moved his hands down, running them over Adam's legs with far less care and gentleness than he'd been using before. He picked up the washcloth from where he'd dropped it and went back to laving Adam's skin, more quickly now, and when he ran his hands over the insides of Adam's thighs, Adam opened them wider.

Kris was tentative with his first touch, but his impatience was clear. His hand glided over the wet skin of Adam's thigh toward his cock, wrapping lightly around the base. Adam arched up, his hips trying to raise off the stool and finding themselves thwarted by his bum leg. He growled, frustrated at his limitations as he moved his hands into Kris's dripping hair.

Kris leaned forward slowly - with something so close to reverence that Adam wanted to cry - and ran his lips lightly from the base to the tip. He hesitated for just a moment before opening his mouth and taking in the head, sighing softly as his tongue moved languidly over the underside and Adam drew in a sharp breath. As Kris's hand began to move in slow strokes up and down, Adam knew that this was not his first time doing this and somehow found that both infuriating and impossibly hot. The pace increased, Kris's tongue moving with speed and intent as his head bobbed in time with his pumping hand, water sluicing over his face and down his back. Adam was gasping for breath, his chest heaving, his knuckles white in Kris's hair. He felt like his lungs were full of steam and each gasped breath was bringing him closer to suffocating; the steam was everywhere and he was burning from the inside out and it was the best way he could think of to die. As he began to tense he felt Kris's grip on his hip tighten as his mouth and hand moved faster still, like he knew Adam was getting close and couldn't wait; Adam could feel the vibrations of Kris's moans against his skin and oh _god_ he was burning, sweating, melting, and it was all so beautiful he couldn't begin to make sense of what he was feeling.

Adam saw stars as he came, throwing his head back and groaning, his whole body tensing as his back arched. His hips tried again to lift up and were again thwarted; he felt it in his knee and realized in some distant part of his mind that this could not be good for his leg then wanted to laugh at how little he cared. He'd happily go through another surgery, another week in the hospital for this. Because he kept coming, waves and waves like it was never going to stop, trembling, pulling on Kris's hair roughly as he sucked him through it, his free hand moving around to Adam's back to help steady him and keep him from falling off the stool.

When it was finally over Kris scrambled to his feet, almost slipping and taking them both down in the process, and grabbed Adam's face between his hands, kissing him fiercely. Adam already couldn't breathe, his heart was hammering like it was about to give out as he kissed back, his hands sliding around Kris's back as his mouth moved furiously and he gave up on air, deciding Kris was better anyway.

"Adam, please," Kris breathed against his mouth, and for a moment Adam was confused. His head was spinning, everything seeming to swirl in dizzying gray as Kris panted harshly against him, and his mind couldn't find a way to put Kris's words into context. Then Kris's hips twitched and it clicked.

He brought one hand back around from where it had been resting on Kris's back and took his cock, red and pulsing, in his hand. Kris let out a long breath and stood up straight, bracing himself on Adam's shoulders as Adam stroked him slowly. Adam looked up, watching Kris's jaw as it tensed, the water flowing down his chest, the flushed color of his skin. He was pure beauty, nothing but wonder. He wished he could do more for him than this, but his condition didn't give him many options so he just gripped tighter, pumped faster, focused on all the signs that this was good, that this was enough for Kris right now. And he knew that he would do better, do _more_ another time.

Because everything about this was wonderful. They should've been doing this the whole time, Adam realized. They were great as friends but this was better, because he knew they'd still be friends afterward and it would be one step above _great_ and his heart just wouldn't slow down because he had never even let himself want this - not in any serious, reality-based way - and here it was, suddenly. Better than he'd dreamed, real and sweaty and sweet and Kris was murmuring "yes, yes, yes" in some kind of delirious stream and then he was coming, spurting onto Adam's belly and legs as he spasmed, his fingers digging into Adam's flesh.

And then Kris fell, collapsing at Adam's feet, his head resting on Adam's thigh as he panted and gasped.

"Thank you," Kris said, barely audible over the rushing of the water.

"What are you thanking me for?" he said.

"Everything. I don't know. Just thank you."

"You're welcome. Thank _you._ You're the best nurse I've had yet. I think I want to keep you."

"You can," Kris said, turning his head to lay kisses on Adam's leg, one hand coming up to run lightly over his bandaged knee. "I'll take good care of you. I need you to get better fast."

Adam ran his hands through Kris's hair and over his back, loving the slippery soft feeling of his skin against his palms, still shocked that he was getting to feel it, and a smile spread across his face. Maybe he didn't mind being the laughing stock of YouTube after all. He figured it was more than an even trade.


End file.
